


flame on a starless night

by icarusinflight



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-04
Updated: 2017-11-17
Packaged: 2019-01-29 14:01:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12632532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icarusinflight/pseuds/icarusinflight
Summary: "I saved your lives Paladins. And yours Blade.” He added pointedly, looking at the Blade, who didn’t acknowledge the words, or their meaning.“Keith is a paladin.”“Oh really?” Lotor let the curiosity seep into his voice. “Which lion do you pilot then?”





	1. Part Galra

**Author's Note:**

> I've written chapters to match the prompts for Keith Week.
> 
> This one was technically 'half-galra' although I've called it 'part galra'
> 
> For anyone who read my Sheith fic _light a spark and ignite it_ this has a very similar line to in that - I really wanted to explore what that line would mean from this angle.
> 
> Also I hate picking titles. This title is just pretty random.

He’d appeared at the quadrant to a fight, flying himself into an absolute shitstorm.

Of course he had been expecting that. He’d known his mother had been planning something, had been planning a launch against Voltron, and the rebels, and the Coalition, something that would destroy them, hopefully take almost the whole force out, and leave them limping. So when he turned up to a Galra fleet powering up, and the Voltron Coalition attacking the fleet, he knew this was it. He saw them all, the rebel fighters, and Voltron attacking, and he saw a single Galra fighter flying towards the barrier and his mother’s ship.

The shot wasn’t an easy one – or wouldn’t be – in any other ship. But in this, the ship made from the asteroid, Lotor’s finest creation, the shot took a moment to line up, before he fired on the cruiser. The attack easily pierced through the particle barrier, taking out the battle cruisers weapon.  

He’d taken the shot from a distance, far enough away to be safe from the explosion, although the ship was still rocked by the shockwave. The Galra fighter however had been right next to the particle barrier, well within the range of danger, and Lotor watched as it changed course swiftly, thrusting up and backwards, running from the explosion that Lotor has caused.

A Galra fighter should have been able to run from the explosion without too much difficulty. But this ship looked to be struggling with it, the ship lagging possibly. From his distance he couldn’t identify the cause, or even if maybe it was just pilot ineptitude, although judging from the swift reaction to his attack that seemed unlikely. He watched as the ship pulled up, leveling off, and it still looked shaky as it flew, but that wasn’t really his concern right now.

He opened the communication channel.

And made contact with Voltron.

 

* * *

 

The Paladins accepted his offer to talk and discuss collaboration, albeit with some apprehension and reluctance. He certainly didn’t blame them for that, he would have been very careful to accept any offer from him - if he were in their position. The Black Paladin instructed him to follow the fighter to the Altean ship - which he called the Castle of Lions - and to land his own ship in the hanger.

Following behind the fighter, it was obvious that the fighter had taken on damage. As he piloted his own ship in, cutting most of the power to slow the usually speedy craft, he watched the Galra fighter, studying it, for lack of anything else to do while he flew. He noticed it was listing significantly to the left, the damaged wing causing too much drag on the craft, and the engine was clearly at sub-optimal levels, probably also damaged from the hit.

The fact that the pilot could still hold the craft steady was in itself am impressive feat; he was clearly very talented.

He should know, he’s spent his career watching for uniquely talented individuals.

It’s how he found his generals.

Not that he wants to think about them now.

But it means he’s supremely good at recognising talent. And this pilot is very talented. He would have been very pleased to recruit a pilot with that level of talent. He also recognises that despite the pilot’s talent, there was no possibility that the pilot hadn’t been flying to their own death when they’d been flying at the battle cruiser – or more accurately – at the particle barrier.

It was a dedication that Lotor couldn’t help but find impressive, even if the action was foolish.

The fighter landed roughly, the damaged engine impeding the motion. Lotor felt a sense of satisfaction at the fact that he landed his own craft flawlessly.

He opened the cockpit to his own ship, taking the steps to exit into the hangar. He was unsurprised to find that he stepped out to multiple paladins. The paladins standing in front of him wore black, blue and pink armour. He put his hands up in a show of surrender, waiting for the paladins to make the next move, or instruct him as to his.

Behind the paladins, he saw the hatch of the Galra lift, before being shoved open, covered hands visible as they pushed the hatch open. The hatch should have lifted open on it own, the fact that it needed to be forced open another sign of just how extensive the damage to craft had been.

He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but when a small Blade of Marmora fighter climbed out, he was sure he hadn’t been expecting that. When the Blade slid down the side of the craft to the ground, Lotor was conscious of just how small the Blade was. Lotor thought they were one of the smallest fighters he had ever seen, especially for a Galran. Either they were another half breed Galran, or the Blade was now resorting to sending children out to fight for them.

The Blade approached the paladins, identity hidden by the outfit, the hood and the mask covering up anything that would have given them away to Lotor. The Blade walked straight up to the paladin in black, positioning themselves at the right side of the man, who turned and nodded at the Blade, before turning back to Lotor. The Blade turned their masked face towards him also.

It was only then that Lotor realised the pink paladin had been talking to him.

“–do you want with us Lotor?” She asked, voice terse.

“It is as I said over the communications channel.” He stated. “I wish to discuss an alliance.”

“And why should we hear you out?” Asked the Black paladin.

“Well for one, I saved your lives Paladins. And yours Blade.” He added pointedly, looking at the Blade, who didn’t acknowledge the words, or their meaning.

“Keith _is_ a paladin.” The Black paladin said pointedly. And – oh, that was interesting. Besides the black paladin, Lotor only noticed the way the Blade flinched at the words, at the statement that he was a paladin, because he was still watching him, eyes still focused on Keith the Blade and Paladin.

“Oh really?” Lotor let the curiosity seep into his voice. “Which lion do you pilot then?” He addressed the question to the Blade.

“That is not your concern.” The pink paladin told him. “And you’re not the one asking questions here.”

Lotor let the subject drop. He was, after all, asking for their assistance here. Even if they would need him just as much. They may not realise it yet, but they would realise in time.

 

* * *

 

He learnt their names.

The black paladin went by the name Shiro.

The blue paladin – who flew the red lion – was named Lance.

The pink paladin – who flew the blue lion – was the Princess Allura.

The green and yellow paladins – who flew the same coloured lions as their armour – were called Pidge and Hunk respectively.

And of course the Blade was called Keith.

Although the blade suits had been designed to hide the wearer's identity, giving all blades the advantage of anonymity, as well making them seem a formidable army, Keith had been immediately recognisable outside of the suit.

His height and size were a major giveaway. Even among the paladins, he was small. Smaller than all the paladins except one. Lotor didn’t think that his size made him any less formidable though. In fact one of the other reasons that Lotor had been able to pick him out immediately was his stance, the way he carried himself. Keith held himself like he was ready for a battle. He also noticed that even in the Castle, in what Lotor would assume was relative safety, Keith still had his knife strapped to his belt, ready to use at any moment.

When Keith was standing around talking to the other paladins, Lotor observed the way that Keith’s fingers drifted to the knife, deft fingers tracing the hilt, running along the handle, tracing the blade emblem, before returning to trace the handle once more.

The movement was hypnotic, and Lotor found himself watching his fingers almost obsessively. The motion should have been threatening. In any other setting – if Lotor had been sitting opposite Keith at a negotiation table, he would have assumed the man to be doing the action in an attempt to intimidate him. As it was he was sure he should be wary of the man, was in no way discounting him, but it wasn’t intimidation, or fear for his life he was feeling. It was intrigue.

Keith intrigued him.

The paladins had given him far more freedom than he would have given himself, were he in their situation. He was allowed to roam most areas of the castle, although he was informed that his actions were monitored. He was provided a room to stay in, and he was also provided some literature to read in his downtime. He was allowed access to the kitchen and common room at any time, but other rooms had to have another individual in the room for it to unlock for him, such as the control room.

Some areas, such as the lions and armoury, were off limits completely.

The pods were off limits to him, although Allura had said that in the event of an emergency, this feature would be overridden.

“How reassuring.” He’d said, filling his voice with condescension, just to watch the frowns on the paladins faces at his words.

He might be trying to cooperate with Voltron, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t have some fun along the way.

 

* * *

 

Most of his fun comes from observing the Paladins.

There’s not a lot to do currently. They’re still negotiating, and he accepts that he’s safest here with Voltron. Voltron can fight off Zarkon and Haggar. Which is more than he can say for himself currently. Maybe if he’d still had his generals – but no.

He takes to sitting in the kitchen. He doesn’t hide, but he finds if he sits further away from the food dispenser, and doesn’t move around or acknowledge the individuals as they enter, they don’t notice him, and tend to keep talking when they come in.

By far the most interesting to listen to are the blue and yellow paladins.

They tend to talk a lot as they move around the kitchen, the blue paladin jumping up on bench while the yellow paladin moves around the kitchen.

It’s from them that he finds out that Keith spends most of his time in the training room. The blue paladin complaining that even though Keith is currently living in the Castle of Lions, that they still barely see him. He continues to complain how Keith has become even more of a loner than he was before, spending all his time in the training room.

“I never thought I’d miss when Keith was –” The voice cuts off suddenly when he notices Lotor, and the paladin freezes, stopping his trajectory towards the table. The other paladin bumps into him, unaware that the blue paladin has stopped, and the interruption drags his attention up from the tablet in his hand, the other hand holding a bowl of food.

“How long have you been here?” The blue paladin asks, a scowl on his face.

“Since before you came in and ruined the peace.” He responds, locking his own tablet, and standing from the table. “I will leave you to it.” He sweeps out the room, feeling the eyes of the paladins on him until he exits the door.

They were no longer of interest, and he had a more important place he wanted to be now.

 

* * *

 

The training room opened under his palm, indicating that there was someone using the room. Lotor stepped inside, looking around, hoping and – yes, there he was.

Keith was training with one of the training droids. He was using his blade.

Lotor had noticed the blade before. Other Blade fighters had longer blades, wider and fully formed swords. Keith’s was small. More like a knife or dagger. Maybe he had been provided a smaller knife to better suit his smaller stature, or possibly – Lotor considered – this was just the choice of weapon for Keith.

He watched as Keith fought off the droid, parries, broad slashes, and sharp jabs to keep the device at bay. A larger blade would have been more effective for the slashes, and the sharp jabs were only just reaching the droid, the area where Keith hit flashing red at the impact, but the droid fought on, the hits doing no significant damage to it.

Then, as Lotor watched, he saw the droid dive forward, attacking Keith with its own blade, instead of jumping back to avoid the attack, Keith twisting sideways. It wasn’t until he was almost turned back facing the droid that Lotor noticed Keith had flicked his knife up, thrown it when he twisted, and in a smooth movement, Keith caught it with his left hand, the opposite hand to prior, before diving forward himself, imbedding the knife in the droid. The droid flashed red, but didn’t fall, still holding it’s own sword, ready for an attack. Lotor expected him to yank his blade out, to step back out of the droids reach, regroup, and attack again. What he didn’t expect was for Keith grab the blade handle with both hands, lean forward, and then the blade grew, more than doubled in size until it matched the blades Lotor _had_ seen before.

The droid fell backwards, slipping out from Keith’s blade, but it was too late, it had already been immobilised, and the floor opened and swallowing the droid and its own weapon away, hiding the evidence of the fight.

Except that Keith was panting, sweaty, his hair sticking to the nape of his neck as he leant over, trying to catch his breath.

It was truly a thing of beauty.

Lotor clapped.

The sound of his hands slapping against each other rung out in the training room, echoing in the large space. Keith startled, looking up for the sound of the noise.

It was obvious that he hadn’t been expecting to have company by the way he reacted at the noise. When his eyes found Lotor, the confusion on his face shifted rapidly into a frown, the expression showing how displeased Keith was with who he saw in front of him.

Lotor felt a small thrill at the thought that he elicited any response at all.

Any reaction is a good reaction in his opinion.

“What are you doing here?” Keith asked as stood up. He lifted his shirt up to his face, using the inside of his shirt to wipe the sweat from his face, brushing at his face and the hair on his forehead. It also provided Lotor with confirmation that, as he had suspected, Keith was muscled, the lifted shirt giving him a view of the rippling and toned muscles of his abdomen, the muscles moving with each of Keith’s still laboured breaths.

The shirt dropped down, its use apparently fulfilled, and Lotor looked back up to Keith’s face, only to find him still frowning, except this time he wasn’t looking at Lotor, eyes instead looking at the blade still in his hands.

Lotor following his gaze to look at the blade, watching as the blade transformed back to its smaller size in front of him, although Keith didn’t move to resheath the weapon.

“Well?” Keith asks again, dragging his attention back from the blade to Keith’s face, the frown still present.

“I am allowed in here.” He replies with a smirk, “As long as someone else is present. And it was fortuitous that you were here, and treated me to such a display.”

Keith’s frown intensified. “That wasn’t… I wasn’t doing that for you.”

“Were you not?” Lotor asks, sounding confused at the words.

“No. Why would I do that for you?”

“Ahhh.” Lotor sighs, “Many a Galran would fight just for the attention of the Prince Lotor.”

“I’m not Galra.” Keith refutes, sliding the blade – the proof of the lie in his statement – away into its sheath, before saying more truthfully, “And you’re not much of a Prince anymore.”

The words hit close to home. Despite the fact that Lotor had never cared much for his prince status, they still stung; it was a reminder of his own fall from the Galra monarchy.

So Lotor hits back with his own words. “Your blade and your fighting say otherwise. You fight like a Galra.”

There was a sharp intake of breath from Keith, and he stalks up to Lotor, standing within his personal space, something that usually no one would have dared to do.

But he wasn’t in the realms of usual now.

“What does that even mean?” He demands, Keith’s eyes searching Lotor’s, just as demanding with their gaze as his voice, and oh – Lotor had never noticed before that Keith had purple in his eyes.

Both the colour and colouration were something Lotor had never seen before. Nothing like any other alien he had seen before. He felt on edge at Keith’s proximity, at his tone, at the _wildness_ he felt from Keith just below the surface.

Feigning nonchalance despite that, he shrugs his shoulders.

“It’s a feeling more than anything. A recognition that pulls within. But also the way you throw yourself into the fight. You gamble with your life, throwing all in, without hesitating to consider how it may go wrong, or if the actions could result in harm to yourself.”

It was something he looked for in his generals. Something he’d seen in all of them which had led him to recruit them to his inner guard, his own personal army. There were many Galra, but less of them who embodied what it meant to be a Galra fighter.

Keith’s eyes continued to flick between Lotor’s own, still searching for something. He didn’t show whether this explanation was satisfying to him.

He broke eye contact finally, walking off to the door, and he hit his hand into the panel, causing the door to slide open.

“I’m leaving now, so you need to get out too.” Keith hesitates, turning his head back to look at Lotor over his shoulder. “Your father said that once too... those words…'You fight like a Galra'.”

The words make his blood run cold.

Zarkon had told Keith he fought like Galra

Zarkon had fought Keith.

Keith had fought Zarkon.

And survived.

The door beeps at him, drawing him from his thoughts and warning him that he had less than a minute to vacate the room, or an alarm would sound, and undoubtedly the rest of the paladins would come charging.

He swiftly exits the room, thoughts still running round his head.

 _You fight like a Galra_.

Of course Zarkon had told Keith that.

Afterall, it was his father who had taught Lotor what the words meant.


	2. Leadership

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is written for the prompt: leadership
> 
> Just a short one this time. These will vary a lot in length, but I hope you enjoy them all the same!

The Black Lion was piloted by the Paladin named Shiro.

_Although was it still called piloting when the craft was a lion?_

The Black Lion assembled the head of the Voltron robot, and the pilot of the Black Lion was the leader of Voltron.

Today the paladins were training, working both as individuals and as Voltron. They’d been training for sometime, and had now formed Voltron to work on that aspect of the training session. Keith had been standing in front of the observation window all morning watching the training session. The Altean Coran was using the castle defense and attack systems to challenge Voltron, forcing them to evade and engage with the system. While the rebel Matt was on the couch, completing his own tasks on the computer, silent apart from the occasional vocal outburst.

Lotor watched Voltron, but he was also watching Keith. Keith’s arms are folded across his chest, in a manner that Lotor has come to associate with Keith, the stance often taken up by the Paladin Blade. His body may be still, though his eyes are alive, watching with interest as Voltron flies, defending, dodging and attacking. Keith’s eyes tracking every moment.

It’s far more interesting to him than watching Voltron itself.

Also of interest to Lotor is the fact that despite Shiro calling Keith a paladin of Voltron, he’s in here watching the action, instead of out there with Voltron.

So he asked the question. “Why are you not out there with them?”

The question clearly startled Keith, dragging him from his thoughts and observation. Lotor realised belatedly that Keith hadn’t even registered his presence, so involved in watching the actions of Voltron that for once, Lotor had been free to observe an unguarded Keith.

Keith turned to him now, giving Lotor his undivided attention.

“What?” Keith asked with a frown, the expression so familiar on Keith’s face. He’s turned towards Lotor, but his gaze drifts back towards Voltron as soon as he’s finished speaking.

“Are you not a paladin?” Lotor asked, and that does get Keith’s attention back to him. Behind him he notes that the sounds which had been coming from the rebel Matt have ceased, the computer silent now. “Shouldn’t you be out there with them?”

Keith’s frown is more evident now, once again directed at Lotor.

“I–” Keith pursed his lips, still frowning, and Lotor observes the way that Keith’s fingers on his arms clenching, squeezing his own arms. “I was. Before. Not anymore.”

“Was this when you fought Zarkon?” He thinks of the paladins, the armour, the colours which had been bothering him, the puzzle he’d been considering, waiting to solve. “You were the Red Paladin.”

He said the words as a statement, without any question. It’s obvious to him now.

He doesn’t really expect an answer from Keith. He doesn’t speak much, at least not to Lotor anyway. He’s not seen him talking much to the others either, but then his presence could be affecting that too.

“I did fight Zarkon in the Red Lion.” Keith agreed. “And I fought you in the Black Lion.”

The words shock him, and he knows that flashes across his face. Keith observes him for another moment, before turning back to watch Voltron again.

He thinks he can see the barest hint of a smile on Keith’s face. He thinks. It’s hard to tell from the angle, and he hasn’t seen Keith smile before, so he has nothing to compare it to.

He should have realised that too, he thinks, turning back to watch Voltron.

This pilot is not the one that Lotor had fought. He thinks back to the first time he’d fought Voltron, to the struggling Black Lion, the Red Lion who had run into ships. The Blue Lion who had run from him, had been terrified, until suddenly it had used the freeze rays and everything had changed, the tables turning.

Then he thinks of Voltron when it had dodged Acxa’s shot.

The Voltron in front of him is impressive, but it’s not _his Voltron_.

He turned his attention back to Keith, still watching Voltron as it continues flying. He walked up to Keith, close enough to touch, if he were so inclined. But he stopped short of doing so.

Keith turned to look at him, his face suspicious. He’s tense, shoulders drawn up and Lotor notices the way he shifts his weight, moving onto the balls of his feet, ready to move if needed.

“You fly well. You were a formidable leader of Voltron.” He told Keith, nodding at him. He doesn’t move from his position beside Keith, turnied to watch Voltron again, and pleased when Keith does the same, taking his eyes off Lotor to look back at Voltron.

From the corner of his vision he can see the other occupants of the room watching him, feels the weight of their gaze like a pressure on his shoulders. It’s not their gazes he cares about though, so he ignores them, eyes on Voltron, while his focus is entirely on Keith.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am genuinely enjoying writing Keitor so much!  
> Hope you're enjoying reading it just as much.
> 
> Comments and Kudos give me life  
> Find me at tumblr at [candybarrnerd](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/candybarrnerd)


	3. Free Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the prompt: free day.  
> This probably was meant to be a day where you could do what you wanted, but I made this a day where the Paladins (and Keith and Lotor) got a day off

When Lotor, Rebel Matt, Coran and the Paladins had sat down to eat their breakfast Allura had announced that today would be a day off for the Paladins.

The day off coincided with a visit to the planet Ibertha – which Lotor doubted was by chance. The planet had recently joined up to the coalition, was one the many sign-ups which had occurred after the battle of Naxzela. The planet was widely thought to have the best beaches in the quadrant, and possibly all known planets. He disagreed with that thought for multiple reasons. For one it was impossible to pick the best beach among all of the planets out there – and the ‘best beach’ was too opinion based for there to be one place with the best beaches. He also happened to believe that the best beaches were definitely _not_ in Ibertha. Lotor didn’t mention that that fact though. Let them believe that Ibertha had the best beaches if they wanted. He would keep his opinion to himself.

Allura informed them that the Castle would be landing on the planet, and that they were all welcome to explore as much as they wished. She requested that they return to the Castle two hours after the second sun rose – not that Lotor was familiar with the term.

“And where does that leave me?” Lotor asked with a bored drawl.

“Well…” Allura trailed off, a frown on her face. “You aren’t our prisoner. You are of course welcome to go down to Ibertha if you wish to. However it is worth noting that you are quite recognisable. It could be dangerous for you to go down to the planet, as there would undoubtedly be some anti-Galra sentiment there. And not only would you be in danger while on Ibertha, but there is a risk that your presence may get back to the Galra. The planet may be liberated but there could be spies, or people may talk about it enough for the information to get back to Galra command.I just don’t think it would be a wise idea.”

Lotor grinned at her, the expression less a statement of happiness than an excuse to bare his teeth at her.

“You may relax Princess, I have no intention of visiting the planet.” Unsurprisingly her face did not relax at the words, if anything it looked like the frown deepened. He wasn’t planning on telling her that he did have the means to disguise himself. Not many knew that as he was half-Galra, half-Altean he had some shapeshifting abilities. Not many people knew and he intended to keep it that way.

“You don’t?” She asked, voice clearly confused.

“I do not.” He told her firmly. “I wish to stay in the…” He paused as if searching for the right word, and when he said it he made sure to sound sceptical of the word, “ _safety_ of the Castle. If all the Paladins and other Castle occupants are exploring Ibertha, will that be a problem?”

“I guess one of us will need to stick around the Castle.” The Princess looked around the kitchen table at the Paladins seated. “I am sorry to do this to you, but I will need to be there to facilitate the discussions with Planet Dignitaries. Would anyone be willing to stay here with Lotor?”

Unsurprisingly to Lotor, no one rushed to volunteer. Even as both Lotor and Allura looked around the table, their eyes looking for the person who would willingly give up their day of leisure to spend with Lotor. Most of the paladins were refusing to make eye contact with him, which was not unusual, but the fact that they were also avoiding eye contact with Allura was what he found most amusing. Here were the famed Paladins of Voltron, Defenders of the Universe, and they wouldn’t make eye contact with either of them.

He heard an intake of breath, and he spun his head to look in the direction it was coming from. He saw Shiro open his mouth to speak and –

“I’ll do it.” Keith said, the words quickly tumbling out of his mouth before Shiro could say anything.

Just like that the growing tension at the table disappeared. He observed the relieved looks on most of the faces around the table. Keith and Shiro being the exceptions. Shiro’s face looked a little displeased, a look of confusion on his face while his eyes were focused solely on Keith.

It wasn’t a shock that most of the paladins would rather do any number of things than stay behind with him. It also wasn’t something he cared about either. It also didn’t particularly surprise him that Keith had been the one to volunteer either. Despite the fact that Keith had professed his belief that Lotor would betray them all at the drop of a hat, Keith was probably the least bothered by his presence. Maybe it was that he was himself Galran, or maybe he was used to other Galrans from his time in the Blade of Marmora. Or maybe he just didn’t mind Lotor’s presence. Lotor had been told he grew on people, maybe that was it.

“Are you sure Keith?” The Princess asked, a small frown on her face as she looked at Keith.

“I’m happy to stay and watch Lotor instead of Keith.” Shiro volunteered, “or I could stay on the castle too.”

“Yes, Princess.” He responded, before he turned, to address the Black Paladin, placing a hand on his shoulder as he did so. “You should go down to the planet Shiro, you deserve a day off. Besides you know I don’t really care about beaches. I’m going to go for a round in the training room while I can.” He nodded to the other people in the room before heading for the exit.

“I’ll come discuss it with you later Keith.” Allura called after him.

“Yes, Princess.” Keith called back as he walked out the door.

 

* * *

 

Keith was already in the common room when Lotor entered. Lotor didn’t think he’d been there long. He knew that Keith had been training earlier, and he could see the way Keith’s hair was still wet, the black locks pushed back, still stuck in position from the moisture. He was lying on his back reading from his tablet, and although he didn’t show any sign that he noticed Lotor enter the room, didn’t look up from his tablet or acknowledge him, Lotor had little doubt that Keith was aware of his presence.

Lotor took a seat on the lounge side opposite Keith. He leant against the back of the lounge, crossed his legs, and spread his arms out, placing them on the top of the cushions. He wanted to be comfortable, but more importantly, he wanted to look comfortable. He wanted to look like he belonged there.

“So you turned down the opportunity for a day of fun and exploration just to spend it with me. I’m flattered, truly I am.” Lotor said, his voice breaking the silence which had built up between them.

It was only because Lotor was watching him – his attention focused on Keith and only Keith – that he saw the twitch of Keith’s fingers when Lotor spoke

“You know that wasn’t why.” Keith responded, his attention still focused on the tablet in front of him, not sparing a glance at Lotor.

“Do I?”

“You do.”

Lotor grinned. Keith wouldn’t see it with his eyes still locked on the tablet but that hardly mattered. “You say that, but I think maybe you were worried about me. I might have been gotten without someone here to talk to.”

“Someone needed to stay with you. You were never going to be left alone. Besides,” Keith refuted, before he finally graced him with his attention, looking up to make eye contact as he said the next words. “I don’t care if you get bored.”

Lotor laughed at that. “Oh Keith, how could I get bored with you here to amuse me?”

Keith frowned, his brows pulling together as he looked at Lotor. “I’m not here to amuse you Lotor.”

He almost laughed, had to press his lips tight together to stop the bubble of laughter which threatened to escape. The words may be true, but it didn’t change the fact that Keith was amusing to him. His face must have betrayed his amusement though, because Keith rolls his eyes.

“So why didn’t you go down to Ibertha?”

It’s a thinly veiled attempt to change the subject, but the sudden shift in topic brings a swift end to Lotor’s good mood. He’s confused at the question when Keith had been there, when Keith’s very presence is due to what Allura said this morning.

“It would have been dangerous. Unlike some I do not make a habit of risking my life unnecessarily.” His confusion at the question bled through into his words, the words less sure than he would have liked.

“I don’t–” Keith started to object before he cut himself off. The moment at Naxzela hung between them. There’d been no obvious discussion of it, not between himself and Keith, and if it had happened between Keith and the others he didn’t know of it. He tended to think not, the way Keith avoided the subject, dropped it like the subject was a burning object singing his fingertips. The moment had been short and over on the battlefield, easily missed if you were otherwise engaged in a fight for your life. Easily seen if you were an outside party with all your wits still about you.

He watched as Keith as he took a deep breath, dug his hands into his legs for a moment, gripping them tight before releasing them. “So that’s what you’re saying then? You were too afraid of getting hurt to go to the beach?”

The words carried a teasing tone, a taunt that Lotor will not react to. He is not one of the human paladins to rise so easily to the bait. He ignored the tone and taunt, instead responding only to the question asked of him.

“You heard the Princess. It would have been too dangerous for the famed Prince Lotor to go to the planet. Anyone could have recognised me.”

Keith’s eyes are still locked on Lotor, watched his every move. It’s different to the way Keith would usually look at him, and he thinks if he were a different man he’d want to squirm under Keith’s watchful eyes. He’s not had Keith’s attention on him like this before. Keith has watched him before, eyes always looking to check on Lotor and ensure he’s not up to something.

But now he’s the centre of Keith’s focus.

It feels different.

Keith shrugged. “I guess that’s a valid concern then. If you can’t disguise yourself to hide your identity.”

The words could be casual, a throwaway remark if not for something in Keith’s tone which makes it clear that making this point had been his goal all along. There’s also the way that Keith’s eyes are still locked on him, watching him like a cat its prey.

Lotor feigned nonchalance. “Ibertha is over-rated. Certainly not worth the risk.” He waved his hand dismissively, but it doesn’t shake Keith’s attention, still locked on him, watching. “What about yourself? You didn’t seem to think it was worth the trip.”

Keith shrugged. “I’m not much a beach person.”

“So you said. Maybe you just haven’t seen the right beach?”

“Maybe.” Keith agreed, though his voice sounded like he couldn’t care less. His gaze softened, finally releasing Lotor the scrutiny as he leaned back against the couch, relaxing into the cushions.

“I could tell you a secret.” Lotor offered.

Keith laughed dryly.

Lotor continued on anyway. “Do you want to know where the best beaches are?” He asked, giving Keith a friendly smile.

Keith rolled his eyes again. “Well if you asked Lance, he’d tell you the best beaches are in Cuba. Maybe you should take up your beach discussion with him?”

It’s a terrible idea, and it’s unlikely that Lance would even engage in a conversation with Lotor about beaches if he asked him to. He’s not planning to ever do so though, his goal is not to talk about beaches but to talk to _Keith._

He doesn’t say any of that though, instead he saying. “I’ve not heard of the planet Cuba. Which quadrant is it in?”

Keith’s laughter at his words is different to anything Lotor has ever heard. Keith has laughed at him, laughed with the others too. But never like this, the huffs and snorts he’d given before were nothing like the laughter now. Keith threw his head back into the couch, eyes scrunched shut and the sound of his laughter is loud, ringing out in the large space. He’s not sure what he said that have produced the reaction, but he took a moment to appreciate it nonetheless.

When the laughter had died down some, when Keith’s noise has reduced he asked, “Was it something I said?”

“No. I–” Keith’s breaths are still rushed, still gasping for air as he tries to answer the question. “–no it’s not. Not really.”

Lotor waited as Keith wiped his hand across his eyes, waited as his breathing calmed down and he could speak unbroken again. When he spoke the words were slow, carefully chosen as he told Lotor, “Cuba isn’t a planet actually. It’s ummm, it’s a country? I’m not sure what the equivalent word is. But it’s just… a small part of the planet where I, where we all come from.”

“I see.” He said, although he’s not sure he does really, but he’s not willing to admit a weakness, not in this. “Is this... country – Cuba – beautiful then?”

Keith frowned again. “I umm… I actually don’t know. I’ve never been to Cuba.”

“This place has the best beaches and you’ve never been?” Lotor asked incredulously.

Keith sighed, tipping his head back to rest on the lounge cushions, face tipped up towards the ceiling. When he spoke his voice was softened,  “Well. The title of best beach is hotly debated. Lance thinks it’s Veradera but there’s a lot of other places that have been called it too. It really depends on who you ask. On our planet we have a lot of beaches. But I grew up a long way from the beach. And it was just… never a priority.”

“And so you don’t like beaches?” Lotor queried. The explanation confused him. It sounded like Keith hadn’t been to beaches much, or at all. If he’d never seen a beach he’d want to see them, visit, see what it was all about. Not dislike them. Unless there was something else at play.

“No.” Keith said firmly.

“Why?”

“Why are you asking?” Keith questioned, his voice sounding frustrated. He tore his gaze away from the room’s ceiling, looked back at Lotor. “What do you want Lotor?”

It’s a good question to ask, probably a good question to ask of him all the time. If Lotor would ever answer truthfully. He knows what he wants is information. Information is valuable, and information can give you the advantage in situations. But here and now, he specifically wants information from Keith. Information that would help him to understand the puzzle in front of him that is Keith.

He doesn’t think his honesty would be appreciated now though, so he deflected the question. “I was just trying to be social. Is there a problem with that?”

Keith’s scowl said there was.

Lotor ignored the scowl, and sighed wistfully. “It is a pity that you do not like beaches. I would have been delighted to take you to the beaches on Cottslee, which I personally believe to be the best beaches in the universe.”

“Why would you do that?” Keith asked, voice suspicious.

“Maybe I just think you would be a lovely companion for just such an outing?”

“Somehow I doubt that.” Keith said, his eyebrows pulling down to match the frown on his lips.

“You can believe what you want Paladin.” The nickname made the frown deepen. Lotor had observed previously that the nickname bothered Keith. This time was no different, but Keith didn’t challenge him on it.

“You… you’re playing at something Lotor.” He said with a scowl. “I don’t know what your game is but I won’t fall for it.”

His laughter rang out through the room, impervious to frown on Keith’s face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have legit written over 10k of Keitor in just over a week.  
> I have no idea what happened.
> 
> Comments and Kudos give me life  
> Find me at tumblr at [candybarrnerd](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/candybarrnerd)


	4. Seeking Solace

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was written for the prompt: Seeking Solace  
> Lotor doesn't so much seek it out, but he does get some  
> Content warning for nightmare - some brutal things happen in the nightmare but it is just a nightmare. Everyone is a-okay in the real world.  
> Unbeta'd. All errors are my own

He’d flown straight into the rift without any hesitation. He’d known when he did so that he was taking a substantial risk. Risking his own life and that of Acxa, Ezor, and Zethrid. He’d known he was risking all of their lives, but it hadn’t felt like a risk, not when he’d been so certain that it would work out. 

But when he flew the craft through the rift the unthinkable had happened instead – nothing. Nothing at all happened. Nothing happened and then Acxa had betrayed him, along with the rest of his generals. Acxa had stunned him and they bound him while he was out like some common criminal.

This time though, he filled the ship with quintessence and flew into the rift. Instead of passing through to the other side the ship shuddered, encountering a resistance as he tried to fly through the rift. For a second it felt like the ship would be ripped apart - the vibrations were too much for the ship to handle. Then he felt the telltale pull of a wormhole, deep in his bones and always in his teeth. He didn’t need to look around them to know he was making a space jump, but he did nonetheless, watching the portal around him even though he knew it would give him no hint to their destination.

The ship exited the wormhole, completing the jump in mere seconds. It took him a moment to settle, to fight through the post wormhole paralysis he always experienced after a jump. When he opened his eyes it was to a Galra fighter ship directly in front of them. The ship was so close that Lotor could see the way Keith leaned forward, how he drove his body forward with the controls. His eyes were shut, closed tight against the particle barrier he had been planning to fly into, not aware of the interruption to his plans. The fighter continued forward on its course, Keith’s hands steady on the controls regardless of the fact he had closed his eyes. There was nothing Lotor could do, the ship’s controls locked up post jump, and he watched as the fighter flew straight into his own ship, disintegrating on impact. 

Then Keith was no more.

The explosion triggered the ship, the residual quintessence reacting to the heat, or the sparks, in a way his ship should never have done. When he’d designed the ships he’d put in safeguards – protection built into the ship so that this  _ should not have been able to happen. _

And it was happening anyway.

Keith’s ship was already gone, but he almost felt his own ship  _ ripple _ before the explosion shot outwards from the point of contact. It rocked him, but he was safe inside the cockpit. Behind him he felt the ship rip apart, and even without looking he knew that his generals were gone. He had a moment to think that at least now they were all reunited in death, but that wasn’t what he wanted. He had always known death was a risk, and they had themselves known the risk – as a Galra soldier, and especially as his generals, but it _ wasn’t supposed to happen like this _ .

The explosion didn’t stop though, spreading outwards rapidly. He watched as the explosion took out the rebel ships, took out Voltron, tore through the Galra battlecruiser. 

It destroyed everything in its wake. It kept going until Lotor knew with certainty that he was the only living being still remaining in this quadrant.

And it was all his fault.

Lotor was awake instantly. His eyes shot open in the dark room. Despite the dark, he could see just enough to know that it was his room in the Castle of Lions. He could hear his own breathing, loud gasps – and the sound filled the room, the noise loud as he gratefully sucked air into his lungs. Even with the minimal lighting of the Castle, he could make out the ceiling of his room, could see the walls where they met the ceiling – a familiar sight, one he’d observed many nights before. He took a moment to look at the room he could see without yet moving, without even turning his head. It was enough to reassure him he was really here. He was here and not  _ there _ where his dream had taken him.

Lotor took another moment to brace himself, gripping the sheet in his fingers before he sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He grabbed the mattress in his fingers, squeezing the material as tight as he could between his fingers. He kept squeezing until it felt like he might break the material until he could hear the squeak of the material protesting under the pressure and above from his fingers. 

He released his grip on the mattress and stood, taking a wobbly step away from the bed, his legs still shaking a little from the lingering adrenaline still coursing through his system. Despite the unsteadiness of his legs he forced his legs to keep moving, taking one step then another until he was walking out the door of his room. It was still early, and more than likely everyone would still be asleep, which was probably for the best. Lotor had no desire to run into any of the Castle’s other occupants, but he needed to move. He needed to put some space between himself and that space. His room and the bed which had housed him in that nightmare world. He needed to move until he could no longer feel the way the dream still affected his body, still left him feeling shaken through to his core.

There weren’t many places he could go at night, not when most of the Castle was locked to him without the company of another paladin. Something he so desperately did not want in this moment. Despite this he continued moving anyway, forcing his feet to take one step then another, even if he had no goal in mind.

He’s not sure why the dream affected him so. Not sure what it was which had gotten underneath his skin, that had left him still reeling in its wake. He could still recall the look on Keith’s face. When he closed his eyes it was Keith’s face he saw, his eyes closed and the wrinkle between his eyebrows.

He could still feel the way the ship had shaken as it ripped apart, taking the rest of his generals with it, could still remember seeing the explosion ripped through the other crafts.

Tear through his mother’s cruiser.

The thought made his stomach churn.

His steps carried him through the Castle corridor, and he kept walking as he passed the other Paladins rooms. He allowed his feet to carry him forward one step at a time, focused only on the sound of his steps and trying to ignore all other thoughts running through his mind.

When he walked past the kitchen, the motion activated door slid open, the lights inside activated when the door had sensed his presence. The illuminated kitchen grabbed his attention, dragging his eyes up to look into it and he felt himself come to a stop without a conscious thought to do so.

The kitchen was one of the few rooms he was allowed access to without any other paladins having to be present.

Now that he had stopped to take a moment, he was no longer focused solely on moving. It was only then that he realised he was thirsty, his mouth as dry as one of the deserts on the planet Madethan. 

Decision made, he entered the room, walking straight to the supplies unit and grabbing one of the hydration pouches.

He punctured the pouch with the straw bringing it up to his mouth and sucking, relieved when the liquid hit his mouth. As he drank down the liquid he moved to the observation window and cast his gaze out at the starmap that was currently in front of him. They’d moved on from Ibertha, were currently staying away from any major planets, not that it made the view any less beautiful. Usually when he piloted his own ship he didn’t get to appreciate views like this, had never taken the time to look and take it all in. Or maybe that was more to do with the fact he’d never had the time to stop when he was in the Galra army; he’d always needed to be somewhere, do something. 

When he finished the pouch he drew it away from his mouth and he squeezed the pouch between his fingers, crumpling it with his force. He hadn’t realised how fast he’d been drinking, the drink over before he’d realised it. Despite having finished the drink and the moisture he could feel in his mouth he still felt thirsty.

Eyes still locked on the planets and the stars visible through the observation window, he lifted his free hand to his hair to run through the strands – a nervous tick he’d pick up, but one he refrained from using unless he was alone. When his fingers came into contact with the strands he felt the dampness there, something he’d not realised before now. He winced at the sweatiness, lifting the hair away from his temple and letting the cool air soothe the skin where it was damp.

He realised as he held up the hair that it wasn’t just his hair that was sweaty. His whole body felt clammy, felt the telltale cling of sweat on his body. It made him feel unclean, and uncomfortable He grimaced as he let the lock of hair fall back down onto his head. Felt the dampness from his hair once more, the feeling of sweat unable to be ignored now that he’d identified it.  

He needed a shower.

Mind made up, he deposited the empty juice pouch in the recycle repository. He exited the room, turning left for the communal bathrooms. They each had a bathroom in their own quarters, but the communal ones were larger, and Lotor didn’t feel like going back to his own quarters just yet.

The bathroom required the press of his hand to open the door, the panel flashed green, and the door slid open smoothly, the room already illuminated from the moment he’d requested access. He walked to the furthest shower unit, pulling the curtain aside and stepping into the cubicle and pulling the curtain shut behind him. Methodically he followed the usual process, stripping his sleep clothes and hanging them on the hooks in the cubicle. He pressed the button for water to activate, and hit the increase temp button until he could feel the scalding temperature even without stepping into the water. He stepped under the water stream, and immediately he saw the way his skin flushed from the heat, vaguely recognised the discomfort of the water hitting his skin.

That had been his plan though, and when the heat of the water did become too much to handle any longer, he folded his legs beneath him and dropped to the floor of the shower.

The added distance between his body and the shower head made the water bearable, and he rested his head back against the shower wall. The water washed away the sweat, and when he closed his eyes he imagined that it also washed away the dream. He could imagine he washed away the memory of watching himself fail and take out everyone around him.

He directed his thoughts instead to the knowledge that at least everyone was alive – for now at least. Thought of the planets he’d been looking at from the observation window only minutes before.

He was alive. They were alive. Every drop of water on his skin was a reassurance he was really here. That  _ this _ was what was real

He let the water take him under, taking away his consciousness and the memory of the dream with it.

* * *

 

He woke to a coldness around him. There was a chill against his skin, and he felt as something soft was placed against him, a blanket, or – probably more likely – a towel. The towel was warm against his skin and he was grateful for it, even as his heart rate spiked at the thought of someone cornering him with a towel, when he was  _ naked _ no less. 

“Hey.” A soft voice said, a warm hand coming to rest on his shoulder, the touch immediately identifiable even through the towel.

He silently drew in a deep breath, before kicking his leg out at the intruder, seeking to make contact with the person standing there. When his leg made contact he wasn’t expecting for it to be captured, fingers wrapping tight just above his ankle and stopping his leg dead. The shock of it forced his eyes open, and he blinked his eyes rapidly to clear his vision.

When his vision did clear he was surprised to see Keith kneeling in front of him.

He looked around at his surroundings – brain lagging from the sleep and failing to recognise the area. He wasn’t in his room, that much was immediately obvious, even before he’d opened his eyes. When he looked up and saw the shower head it finally slipped into place; he was in one of the shower cubicles. He was naked and cold because he had been showering. 

It all came rushing back then. The dream. The ship exploding. Everyone had died.

Looking up he found Keith looking down at him, has face pulling in what almost looked like worry. Except that didn’t make any sense. Keith would never worry over him.

“Paladin Keith.” Lotor acknowledged.

“Just Keith is fine.” He answered, his too voice loud in the small shower cubicle. He felt close, too close, crowding in on Lotor in the small space. Lotor felt cornered –  _ was literally cornered _ and he didn’t even have clothes. He probably looked a mess, could feel the knots of his hair pressing into his skull, hanging heavy and pulling at his skull, and he knew that was going to be a bitch to brush out later. His head hurt, the ache a telltale emotional hangover making itself known. He’s not sure how long he slept in the shower, long enough at least for his back to be aching, muscles complaining from the position he’d fallen asleep in. He still feels tired, a bone deep exhaustion which tells him to just ignore all of that and close his eyes again, let himself fall back into the world of sleep. Although he should probably return to his bed before he lets that happen.

Keith was still looking at him, still watching him. He closed his eyes to the sight. He didn’t want to look at Keith.

“Sorry I woke you, but I was worried when I heard the shower running and no one was answering. You okay?”

“Of course I’m fine.” His voice cracked on the words, which probably didn’t help his case, but he powered on nonetheless. “The bed in my quarters is just so atrocious I had to resort to trying to sleep in the shower. The Princess should be ashamed of such pitiful accommodations.”

Keith’s hand squeezed his shoulder lightly, before it was removed, there’s a ruffling sound, and when Lotor opened his eyes Keith has leaned back on his heels, putting some distance between them. The distance does nothing to dilute Keith’s gaze, the way his attention is still locked on Lotor.

“Well, I guess where ever works for you. At least you got some sleep.” Keith said with a hint of sarcasm. “Would you like some clothes? I can get you some fresh ones.”

Part of him is confused at the offer – he’s not sure why Keith would offer to do that to him. Part of him wants to turn the offer down, to put an end to this strange interaction and Keith’s strange behaviour, he also wants the clothes. The desire for clean and dry clothes win out. 

He gave a nod.

Keith returned the nod, standing up easily from his crouched position. He turned and pushed the metallic shower curtain aside just enough for him to slip through, and the curtain fell shut as soon as he passed through.

He heard noises coming from out in the bathroom, the sound of Keith moving around in the room.

He’d been expecting Keith to come back into the cubicle, but instead he sees clothing thrown over the curtain, hanging from the bar. He recognised the clothes, the telltale grey of the Paladin’s training suits. It’s one of the suits the Paladin’s usually wear when they’re doing the training outside of the lions - hand to hand, cooperation drills, and cardiovascular training.

“I’m going to have a shower now,” Keith called out. The words sound like they come from one of the other cubicles. He waited until he heard the water start running before he moves, pushing his legs out straight, flexing the muscles to remind them how they work. Lotor placed his hands down on the shower floor, using them to push up to standing. His legs were unstable again, but he could deal with that. He dried off quickly with the towel, grabbed the suit from where it hung, slipping into it quickly. He exited the room without saying another word to Keith.

He headed straight to his room, thankful not to run into anyone else on his way.

When he entered his room, he went straight to his bed, hopping in and wrapping the sheets around him tight. When was was comfortable, he let the exhaustion take him claim him once again.

* * *

 

Later when he woke and finally exited his bed and room, he found a bowl of food goop and a juice pouch left for him outside his door.

There’s no note, but he’s fairly sure there’s only one person it could have been.

Thankful for the offering, he took the food and pouch and retreated back into his room, happy to postpone having to face the rest of the Castle just yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this one is a little light on the Keitor, but I feel like it was essential for the progress of this story for Lotor to show some vulnerability. Next chapter will have them talking to each other more I promise.
> 
> I know this is a little outside of what we've seen from Lotor in the show, but I think it is a reasonable place for him to go - to experience nightmares and have some PTSD from fighting in a war. We've seen Lotor after he was betrayed - he was so shellshocked by that, and to me this felt like a natural progression.
> 
> But let me know how you feel about it!
> 
> Comments and Kudos give me life  
> Find me at tumblr at [candybarrnerd](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/candybarrnerd)

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed!
> 
> Comments and Kudos give me life  
> Find me at tumblr at [candybarrnerd](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/candybarrnerd)


End file.
